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serindeLooked at three more apartments last night. I intended to just look at the one I'd seen the post for, but there were two others in the same building complex available in my price range, so I permitted myself to be shown them as well.
It so proved that these were in a set of buildings I'd passed many a time when walking down by the river, ones that I had greatly admired--they're old pale pre-war brick with elaborate ironwork ornamentation on the fire escapes. And I'd always assumed that they were far, far above my touch, these lovely old but clearly well-kept buildings next to the river (though when you're talking 78th St, it's also "next to the FDR Drive", so it's not as all-that as it might be). Thus, I was mighty surprised to find that I Can, in fact, Haz.
The two studios I was shown were very nice, but too small. But it gave me an idea of what the place was like. And then, the 1-BR I'd actually come for...
Apartment #9, E. 79th and next-stop-the-river (call it East End): 1 BR, for the listed number of $TOOMUCH except it includes all utilities so works to a push. The apartment is awfully small, though it has a useable kitchen; the bedroom's probably, eh, 8' X 10', and the living room is maybe 10' square but it has egresses in each wall which makes the space complicated to use. Nice bathroom. Not enough window-age to delight me, but there is some, and it looks out over the interior courtyard rather than streets or, God love us, highway. 5th floor walk-up. In sum, its aggregate score wouldn't be high enough to make me stop and think, but...the building. Oh the building. You walk into the courtyard through a stone arched carriageway through an ornamented iron gate, and from there go into a corner and mount the also-ornamented stairs--which are outside, and look also out over the courtyard--to your domicile. It pleases me; oh, it pleases me greatly, the thought of coming home to that. And yes, the outdoor staircase probably sucks ass when you are trying to haul stuff up it, but still. But is it worth having to deal with a living room you can't rightly do much with? I just don't know.
So I asked the broker to let me know if more stuff there came up, and my amble back towards Penn became a very long walk of pondering; thinking about the apartment, thinking about my expectations, and then, in meta-fashion, thinking about the fact that I did not have to be anywhere, and I could walk about all night if it pleased me to do so. (This probably seems like a "well, duh" to most of you, but it's a new thought for me.) Eventually, I made it to Penn, missing the train by two minutes of course, and realized that it was also in my power to sit at the more decent of the two bar/restaurants and have a soup and a cocktail; and so I did that thing.
There was more introspection after I got home, on sundry other topics, but I have employed sufficient avoidance behavior for one morning.
It so proved that these were in a set of buildings I'd passed many a time when walking down by the river, ones that I had greatly admired--they're old pale pre-war brick with elaborate ironwork ornamentation on the fire escapes. And I'd always assumed that they were far, far above my touch, these lovely old but clearly well-kept buildings next to the river (though when you're talking 78th St, it's also "next to the FDR Drive", so it's not as all-that as it might be). Thus, I was mighty surprised to find that I Can, in fact, Haz.
The two studios I was shown were very nice, but too small. But it gave me an idea of what the place was like. And then, the 1-BR I'd actually come for...
Apartment #9, E. 79th and next-stop-the-river (call it East End): 1 BR, for the listed number of $TOOMUCH except it includes all utilities so works to a push. The apartment is awfully small, though it has a useable kitchen; the bedroom's probably, eh, 8' X 10', and the living room is maybe 10' square but it has egresses in each wall which makes the space complicated to use. Nice bathroom. Not enough window-age to delight me, but there is some, and it looks out over the interior courtyard rather than streets or, God love us, highway. 5th floor walk-up. In sum, its aggregate score wouldn't be high enough to make me stop and think, but...the building. Oh the building. You walk into the courtyard through a stone arched carriageway through an ornamented iron gate, and from there go into a corner and mount the also-ornamented stairs--which are outside, and look also out over the courtyard--to your domicile. It pleases me; oh, it pleases me greatly, the thought of coming home to that. And yes, the outdoor staircase probably sucks ass when you are trying to haul stuff up it, but still. But is it worth having to deal with a living room you can't rightly do much with? I just don't know.
So I asked the broker to let me know if more stuff there came up, and my amble back towards Penn became a very long walk of pondering; thinking about the apartment, thinking about my expectations, and then, in meta-fashion, thinking about the fact that I did not have to be anywhere, and I could walk about all night if it pleased me to do so. (This probably seems like a "well, duh" to most of you, but it's a new thought for me.) Eventually, I made it to Penn, missing the train by two minutes of course, and realized that it was also in my power to sit at the more decent of the two bar/restaurants and have a soup and a cocktail; and so I did that thing.
There was more introspection after I got home, on sundry other topics, but I have employed sufficient avoidance behavior for one morning.
